


Cover Your Heart

by AshaDev



Series: Follow My Lead [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Is Messed Up, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-08-22 13:10:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16598537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshaDev/pseuds/AshaDev
Summary: Cas isn't going to stand by and watch Dean burn. No matter how many times he has to save him. Even if it's from himself.Part 3 of the Follow My Lead series.





	1. Running

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first few chapters a month or so ago, with no intention of publishing, but now I'm invested. So here's chapter 1 of part 3! Chapter 2 should be up in a week or so.
> 
> Comments, criticisms, frustrations at using the same old trope of practically every single season of SPN are all very welcome and encouraged.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!

It was just a niggling suspicion at first. A thin thread of wrongness that wrapped its way around his head like the fine wisp of a spider’s web. It would have been obvious to any angel that something was wrong. Very wrong. It should have been obvious to him.

It was no use thinking about it now.

Hanging above in the rafters, half-crucified and the blood running down his fingertips and legs in rivulets, he did not feel as God’s Son did - forgiving of his captors and the torture they inflicted on him.

No, Castiel, Angel of the Lord, felt as if he was back to his very basic programming. A _true_ image of God.

Wrathful. Vengeful.

He would lay waste to all.

\--

_...Earlier..._

About a month after he lost his grace, Cas decided he wanted to train. He was tired of sitting around and watching the brothers go on hunts. He was tired of seeing the bruises and cuts that riddled Dean’s body. He had to do something, so he went to Dean.

“Hell friggin’ no.” Dean stated, arms crossed.

“I cannot just sit here while you and Sam go and fight, risking your lives.” Cas frowned.

“Me and Sam have been doing this for a very long time, Cas. Like since I was a freakin’ toddler. We don’t need you. Especially now that you’re wingless.”

Cas’ frown deepened. “Do you really think so little of me?”

“You are not human, Cas. You’re an angel without his juice. What exactly do you expect to do on these hunts, huh? You didn’t grow up in this life and it takes years to learn these skills. Don’t you remember what happened last time? Do you even know how to disarm a monster without using your Bionic strength? Do you know how to get out of a choke hold? Do you know what kills a wraith? Without your mojo, you’re just a little nerdy dude. I can’t be worrying about you while I’m trying to fight off a ghost or worse. That’ll get us both killed. It could get Sam killed.”

“That’s completely ridiculous. I am still a warrior and I _am_ skilled in combat. I will train hard and I will not join you until you and Sam think I’m ready. I may not be fully powered but I am more intelligent and proficient in battle than any human, including you.” Cas said this last part with a bit of venom.

Dean squinted his eyes. “Well, you don’t have to be a dick about it.”

Cas stepped forward to where Dean was leaning against his desk. “I am not saying I’m better than humans, but you can’t treat me like an infant either, Dean.”

“I…” Dean took a deep breath.

Cas stepped closer and kissed Dean on the side of his neck, just below his ear. Dean automatically lifted his head up to expose more skin and he let out a little sigh.

“I will make sure to train every day.” Cas murmured before going back to suck on the tender flesh.

“You better.” Dean hands curled around Cas’ arms and held on.

Cas smiled against his throat and then gently pushed the hunter toward the bed.

-

He knew how to wield knives, obviously. He was fast and had great instincts. But even though he was stronger than the hunters, he didn’t have the strength or the knowledge to go against a monster without some re-conditioning and training.

Dean had Sam spar with Cas for the first few rounds so he could get some practice with different body types. Then Cas went up against Dean and somehow, going up against each other made them fight harder and rougher. Sam had to pull Cas off of Dean at one point when the knife’s edge was a bit too close to the jugular.

Some days were worse than others. Cas knew practically all forms of martial arts from the books he had ‘read’ through Metatron, but the application proved difficult. Except for capoeira.

Dean pointed out that he couldn’t exactly dance his opponents to death, until Cas quickly crouched down, lifted himself up in the air on one hand, and kicked out with both feet, straight into Sam’s gut. Sam fell backwards with a shout and Dean stared, stunned.

After a moment, Dean shook his head. “Alright Kevin Bacon, take it easy.” He helped Sam up and looked at the angel. “Of course, the dance one has to be the one you’re good at…”

Cas stood up, ran his hand through his sweaty hair, and smirked at him.

Dean ended the training quickly after that and pulled Cas to the showers, where they ended up using all the hot water.

-

Cas continued to train and while the brothers went on hunts, he did research for them. On the side, he would look into tracking down Maggie and Don.

After the couple’s escape from the dungeon, there hadn’t been a trace of them. It was almost clinical in the way the dungeon had been scrubbed clean. When the weeks went by and no random curses fell upon them, the Winchesters figured the witches had simply decided to vanish and continue their reign of angsty, marital-problem-laden terror on upper class suburbia.  

It didn’t sit well with Cas that Dean’s torturers were still out there. He had suffered too much and they needed to pay. Dean simply told him that one day they’d cross paths again and he’d kick their asses back to Halliwell Manor. For all that they had put Dean through, he seemed oddly okay with their escape.

The weeks passed and by early Springtime, Castiel had grown stronger. His body was firmer in areas where Jimmy Novak had been slightly pudgy. He took to shaving closer than normal, though he would have stubble again every evening. He also began to style his hair up in messy short waves, the way he used to have it when he first met Dean. Dean loved to run his hands through it, so Cas kept it. He still wore the suit on occasion. It was his security blanket, Dean had told him. Like Linus from the Peanuts. Castiel understood that reference.

-

It was one night when he and Dean were making a run to town that Cas first saw it. Dean was chatting away as he drove out of the Batcave and into the road just beyond the hidden tunnel. Cas was nodding a long, not paying particular attention since Dean had already told him about that episode of Game of Thrones last night, when something caught his eye as they emerged on to the road.

Just a glimpse, like a shimmering ghost.

A reaper.

Standing on the side of the road, near the ditch among tall weeds.

Cas leaned forward and the man was gone.

-

He saw him again a few days later when he joined Dean on the balcony one early morning. After giving Dean a slow, lazy blowjob, Dean slumped back a little, trying to catch his breath. Cas smiled, wiping his mouth, and as he stood up to retrieve his robe hanging on the rail, he saw him again, out in the field below, looking straight ahead.

He frowned but then was distracted when Dean pushed up against him and began to jerk him off through his pajamas.

\--

Really, in retrospect, there were so many clues.

Weeks ago, as Cas had pulled the dirty clothes from his and Dean’s laundry basket, there was a faint smell of rot coming from Dean’s everyday sweatpants. Cas had scrunched up his nose and dropped the offending article of clothing into the wash with little thought. It happened again a few more times, at which point, Cas began to worry that Dean had contracted some terrible flesh-eating disease, but at night, Dean smelled clean and fine. When he eventually had asked the hunter about it, Dean had looked at him confused but then he had smelled the sweats himself and almost gagged. He had tossed them and bought a new pair. The smell came back.

Soon after that, Cas had spotted a small streak of fresh blood on the hem of Dean’s shirt. He hadn’t been on a hunt for several days. Dean had shrugged and blotted it off.

Sometimes, Dean would be gone for an hour and when he turned up, he’d say he was in the garage or just doing whatever.

There were little tiny red flags that Cas simply didn’t see. Or maybe part of him didn't want to see.

It didn’t matter in the end.

\--

When they found it, it was by pure chance.

Sam’s bedroom sink had been spewing rusty water and the boys went down into the basement to inspect the miles of copper pipes that covered the walls and ceiling. When they got close to one of the areas where the lights didn’t reach, Sam almost tripped on a big slab of broken foundation. They shined their flashlights on the ground and there were shattered pieces of concrete everywhere. There was a steady leak coming from a small pipe that drenched everything.

Dean followed the pipe up to the ceiling, “Well, looks like we found the problem. Jesus, these pipes must be at least, what? 70 years old? 100?”

“Who knows how old this bunker actually is. I’m surprised it has held up so well. Honestly, it’s a bit odd that just this pipe broke.”

“Well, you and your Shetland pony hair probably clogged it all up and it burst.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Pipes don’t burst from clogs. Besides, look at this mess. How did all this concrete get broken up like this? It’s weird.”

They walked around the edge of the hole and there, tucked away in the corner, was a large dark shape. They looked at each other and Dean silently reached back until he got a grip on the new copper pipes he had placed against the wall. They ventured closer and Sam shined his light over it. Both men instantly had to fight to not gag.

It was a body, rotting horribly. It was so heavily mutilated that they couldn’t tell its sex, race, or age, but it was definitely human. The torture inflicted on it was obvious.

They ran upstairs to get supplies and Castiel went down to help. Armed with gloves and a large tarp, the men took hold of the corpse and lugged it up onto the ground. Dean turned on the light tower and the sight was even more gruesome in the bright florescence. Cas didn’t seem to mind and he lifted one of the corpse’s hands.

“I believe this is a male, judging by the size of the hand. Also, what is left of his feet are rather large as well.”

Sam covered his nose and leaned closer. “These look like men’s clothes.” He lifted some of the blood-stained shirt and the flesh slipped off in a slimy, thick sludge. “Oh god.” Sam stood up again and coughed. “Yea, that’s definitely a guy.”

Dean looked down into the cavern where the body had been. “I think I found one of his shoes.” He lifted it with the butt-end of his gun for the men to see.

Castiel and Sam leaned closer to inspect it and then Cas’ eyes flickered to Sam, who also looked at him, wide-eyed. They turned and stared, stunned, at Dean.

“What is that, size 9? Maybe an 8?” Dean looked up when felt their eyes on him. “What?”

Sam stepped back, just slightly. “Dean…” he said softly and gently.

“Sam, what? Is there a ghost?” Dean turned around quickly to an empty wall.

Cas also backed up then, and Dean started to shake. He had never seen them so scared and all his fight or flight alarms were blaring.

“Dean…” Sam said again, even gentler.

“Sam, what!?” Dean said, panicked and looking around wildly.

“That shoe…” Sam whispered, terror in his eyes. “That’s Don’s.”

Dean blinked and cocked his head back in confusion. He looked at the shoe again, covered in concrete and blood and whatever else lurked in that hole. There were small tassels of soft leather peeking out on top. Even covered in dirt, the quality of the shoe was clear. Dean dropped the shoe and reeled. He pushed himself up against the damp wall, trying to hold himself up. “Oh…Oh no.” Dean shut his eyes and held his head tightly, slipping down the wall to the floor.

“We don’t know it was y-“ Sam began.

“OF COURSE IT WAS ME, SAM!” Dean shouted.

There was a long moment of silence where nobody moved until something caught Cas' eye.

Cas moved closer to the body. “Sam, look at this.”

Sam hesitated for a moment, looking at his brother who was almost in a fetal position, before crouching down and looking at where Cas was pointing. “What is that?”

“A spell.” Cas leaned down and pulled the sleeve of the corpse up, revealing the partially protruding bone scorched in runes and ancient symbols. “It is a death spell. It keeps the person’s soul bound to Earth so that it can never be reaped.”

“Why would a witch do that?” Sam looked up, puzzled.

“So that if it is ever killed, it can be brought back to life.” Cas stood up and dusted his pants. “It explains the reaper.”

“What? What reaper?”

“I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it. I have seen a reaper outside the bunker.” Cas sighed. “And now I know why. He’s been unable to gather the soul.”

“Shit.” Sam whispered. They both looked at Dean who was staring at the body, frozen. “What do we do?”

\--

Maggie and Don had had a rocky marriage by any measure. They had been in the midst of trying to kill each other the last time the brothers ran into them. It wouldn’t have been that much of a surprise if Maggie had done it.  
  
It was their best hope.

That night, after Sam and Cas prodded Dean back up to the first floor, they tried to be as clinical about it as possible. They asked him questions and tried to make a timeline. Dean was stiff and tense. He remembered nothing. Except his nightmares.

The rivers of blood and the screaming and the flash of a knife and the dark laughter. He hadn’t confided in Cas when they had first started, but he knew that the angel knew. Whenever he’d have to get up in the middle of the night and get a glass of water to calm himself down, he’d slip back into bed where Cas would turn and smooth his hair and wrap his arms around him. It was the only thing that had really helped.

Now, Dean sat in the war room describing his nightmares with Sam typing away furiously at his laptop. It was about two hours later that they had pieced together an idea of what might have happened. It wasn’t good.

“I think there’s a mental hospital about half an hour from here.” Dean said finally.

“We’re not going to put you in a mental institution.” Sam shook his head. “We can fight this.”

“We tried to fight this, remember?” Dean said, defeated. “We tried. I fucking tried. And I am still fucking broken. My head is freakin’ mush.” Dean closed his fists tightly. “Jesus, out of all the shit we have been through, _this_ is what finally drove me Loony Tunes.”

“You are unlikely to kill again.” Cas piped up next to him. “You haven’t killed again. Your nightmares only describe one victim. It has been months.”

“That supposed to make me feel better, Cas?” Dean exasperated. “I can’t be trusted.” Suddenly, Sam stood up, laptop in hand, and started to walk away. “Where you going?”

Sam turned. “To do research.”

“Sam, don’t waste your time.”

Sam walked back to stand in front of Dean, his nostrils flaring, “I was Satan, once. Do you remember that?”

“What? Yeah, of course, I remember that.” Dean asked, confused.

“Cas was God once. A really shitty, psycho killer god. Do you remember that?” Sam asked. Cas frowned at that last part.

“Uh, yeah, man. What are you-“

“We have always fought, Dean. Always. Even when shit got bad, real bad, we never stopped fighting. We never gave up.” Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Sam continued. “So, what makes you think, for one single minute, that we are giving up on you? Ever?”

“He makes a very valid point.” Cas quipped.

“Shut up.” Dean grumbled.

-

The men hit the books that night until the early morning hours. Coffee was kept in constant supply.

Cas was flipping through one of the many Campbell hunting diaries when he spotted it in the top corner of a page. A small, decorated hexagram and script written around it in a circle. In small block letters right below it, it said Pg 59 – Kill

Cas went to the page and read the entry.

_10/11/1968 - Djinn; Powell, Oregon – injected w/ blood = coma; find alpha._

_10/14/1968 – Djinn; Powell, Oregon – vic died; young djinn q’d – alpha must die._

After that, the entries changed to another town and a hunt involving ghosts forcing people to skate themselves to death at a roller rink.

Cas sat up. “Guys.”

-

The men had read the entry over and over, flipping through other pages and even looking at it upside down.

“This is the worst journal writing ever. What the hell are we supposed to do with this?” Dean sat back and looked up to the ceiling with a sigh.

“Uh, well, at least we know the alpha has to be killed? I think?” Sam scratched at his chin and frowned as he read the entry for the 10th time.

“What good is a hunter’s journal if you can’t even understand it?!” Dean stood up suddenly and paced the floor.

“You met him, Dean. Our grandfather was a paranoid dick. He probably wanted to be as vague as possible on purpose.” Sam shook his head.

“I have to agree with Dean. This information is not very helpful. We should do further research on this Powell, Oregon. Perhaps we can speak to hunters that were present in that area at the time.” Cas squinted his eyes at the journal, as if willing it to give him something useful.

“Cas, any hunters that knew anything are probably dead or… dead.” Dean rubbed his forehead. “It was the 60s and hunters don’t exactly have a normal lifespan in the first place.”

Sam went back to typing away at his laptop, determined. “We have to try.”

So, the men went to their respective laptops while Cas looked through the Men of Letters archives for any more information.

The most they found seemed to confirm at least part of the entry: The lore agreed that only by killing the alpha djinn could any possession and hold be broken. But this was nothing new and it said nothing about how to do it.

After a few hours of reading, Dean got up to go to the bathroom. Cas went and stood in front of Sam, hovering.

Sam looked up from his laptop. “What is it, Cas?”

“Sam, I’m worried.” Cas fiddled with the edge of his tie. “I do not believe that killing the alpha will help. Not in Dean’s…situation.”

“What are you talking about, Cas?” Sam leaned back in his chair to look at Cas better. “What else could it be?”

“I believe this is just a human response to a very non-human experience. I think…I think it’s just Dean. He needs help we cannot provide. I think that-“

“You think what, Cas?” Dean said from the doorway.

Cas flinched slightly and looked at Dean. “I think we should get some rest. It’s been a long night.”

Sam yawned on cue. “I could go for another hour or three.”

“It is best if we start fresh. We aren’t pressed for time.” Cas looked at Sam, his eyes pleading.

Sam blinked. “Yeah…Yeah, you’re right, Cas. We should call it a day and start up again tomorrow. At least we have…well, something.” Sam pushed the journal toward the center of the table and closed his laptop, standing up and stretching.

Dean didn’t say anything as he watched Cas and Sam try not to be obvious about whatever it was they were trying to hide.

That night, Dean squeezed himself against Cas’ side and Cas held him tight. Cas slept. Dean didn’t.

-

They continued their research the next two days, gathering bits of information here and there, but overall it was thankless, mindless work.

Until Sam found a tiny manuscript shoved into a cabinet marked _Mental Diseases - 3_. A spell was extracted from the Arabic manuscript on jinnī and the trio finally had an idea how to defeat the alpha. They formulated a plan, with Cas still uneasy about it all and giving Sam meaningful looks. Sam ignored him.

Dean seemed at least somewhat more at ease. He was extra handsy that night, kissing Cas until he was breathless and then rutting against him until they both came with small, satisfied gasps.

-

The next morning, Cas, needing to use the bathroom but reluctant to get up, pulled at the blankets only to feel them give way instantly. Frowning, he turned on the bedside lamp and rubbed at his sleep-worn eyes as he sat up. Once his vision came into focus, he spotted a folded piece of paper sitting on the nightstand. He froze and stared at it for a long time before willing himself to move.

As he reached for it, he already knew what it would say. He knew. Instinctively, he knew. And yet, when he read it, it still felt like a kick to the gut.  
  


_I need to do this alone._

_\- Dean_


	2. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas finds a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I get the worst writer's block ever and then I get mad and write garbage. And then I get more mad that I wrote garbage. Should I keep going or just burn this whole story to the ground? 
> 
> Either way, sorry for the delay (again!)
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Cas knew the drill by now.

Sam wouldn’t sleep. He would barely eat. He would do unpleasant things to people that deserved it and some who didn’t. After it was all over, he would feel guilty about it, but not too guilty because there wasn’t anything Sam wouldn’t do for his brother. That’s just the way it was. That was the way the Winchester brothers did things. He had said once that he could be judged for it later. He had already burned in Hell once.

So, when Sam read the note, he simply sighed.  Cas sighed too, because he saw already the coldness creep into Sam's eyes.

When a month passed and Sam didn’t have a single clue, not even a whiff, he doubled his efforts. He searched and tortured. More weeks passed. Nobody knew anything. Sam broke the bones of dozens of people and monsters. They only cried for mercy. He gave none.

Cas declined to join him. He hated to see Sam like that.  Instead, he called Dean on all his cells repeatedly for days, his voicemails becoming increasingly angry and then just reduced to begging and pleas until all the phone numbers were suddenly out of service. He searched Dean’s laptop but ended up making it freeze when he accidentally opened all of Dean’s bookmarked porno sites. Then in his desperation, Cas started to call every single person in the phone book before Sam told him he couldn’t just call everyone in the world.

When Sam wasn't off torturing the innocent, he and Cas searched the police scanners and hacked traffic cams and downloaded surveillance footage and made calls to everyone in the hunter network and they argued about everything and researched lore and drank into the early morning before crashing right on top of the piles of maps and charts to sleep for a few hours before doing it all over again the next day.  All the while, Cas prayed every day for his grace to come back so he could just find Dean and bring him home. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he called God an asshole once or twice in his prayers.

\--

One morning, Cas was immersed in an article when Sam stepped into the kitchen, barefoot, and disheveled from a restless sleep hunched in a chair in the library.

“Anything?” Sam yawned as he reached for the pot of coffee.

“No.” Cas replied.

“What are you reading?” Sam moved closer to the laptop and Cas closed out the tab quickly.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Damnit, Cas. We’ve been over this! My brother is not psychotic!” Sam stood over Cas, clutching his mug closely and tightly.

“Why is it so hard for you to believe that Dean might have a mental illness?!” Cas replied loudly, standing up and facing Sam, suddenly furious. Sam took a step back in surprise. “You are always pushing him to talk about his feelings and confide in you when things go wrong. You are always searching for a way to get inside his head, but now that he might be ill, you act as if that is impossible and the worse thing in this universe! As if you yourself have never been in a similar situation! So, what is it, Sam?! Is mental illness only okay in theory but not in reality?! Or is it just not okay for _your_ brother to suffer from it?!” Cas took a step forward, looking up at Sam with fierce eyes.

Sam stared, scowling, and then suddenly deflated. “No, man. No, that’s not…It’s just…Dean has always had his issues, but he always made it out, or at least pushed it far down enough that it didn’t affect him…like this. I’m not saying that’s healthy, but if he’s actually showing signs of mental instability, that means…that means that this was so bad…and so hard on him…that it was worse than Hell and Purgatory…and I wasn’t there to stop it. I failed him.” Sam’s eyes got teary and he sniffed. “…And now my brother could be broken beyond anything I’ve…we’ve ever seen.” He exhaled and wiped a tear away quickly. “And I don’t know how to deal with that…”

Cas backed up a little and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. His voice was calmer and gentler. “Just like we always do, we find him, and we help him. There’s nothing wrong with being afflicted by mental disease.”

“I feel like Dean would make a comment about you being a wannabe Dr. Phil or something right about now.” Sam smiled sadly.

“That’s why we need to find him.”

“Yeah…” Sam said, not too convinced.

Cas sat back down, “I have been researching and according to this Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, I don’t believe he has a split personality because it is still Dean…it just seems he had some kind of memory loss while he kil- while he did what he did to Don. Whatever he has, it doesn’t seem to fit any of the listed disorders.”

“I mean, how many hunters have actually gone to a psychologist to get evaluated. It could just be something never seen or studied before. Hunters don’t exactly see your normal, everyday traumatizing crap.”

“Either way, this means that this Alpha hunt of his will not be fruitful, other than putting him in grave danger. We need to find him soon, Sam. We need to help him.”

Sam ran a hand through his long hair and closed his eyes, “Yeah...”

\--

Cas had his head down on the table in the library, trying to take a quick nap, when his phone buzzed. He startled and nearly fell backwards. Sam looked up from one of the many dusty books piled around him. Cas grabbed his phone and frowned at the number. It was blocked. He widened his eyes and looked up at Sam.

“What?” Sam put the book down.

“It’s Dean.” Cas murmured.

“Answer it!” Sam stood up in a rush.

Cas pushed the green button and his voice came out shakier than he wanted. “Dean.”

“Hey! Took you long enough!” Dean said happily.

“Dean.” Cas cleared his throat. “Where are you?”

“Well, hello to you, too.”

“Where are you?” Cas said again, more forcefully. “Sam and I have been so wor- I’ve…Dean, please tell me where you are.”

Sam walked around to stand closer to Cas, frustration clear on his face.

“Cas, I just called to see how you and Sam were. Don’t make me hang up.” Dean lost some of the jovialness in his voice.

“But Dean-“

“Cas, I’m serious.” Dean murmured, firmer.

Cas snapped his fingers to Sam, pointing at Sam’s phone. Sam grabbed it, brought up the tracking app, and synced it to Cas’ phone. Cas set the phone down and put it on speaker. 

“I can’t be tracked through this phone. So, don’t bother, Sammy.”

Sam leaned in and immediately started yelling. “Dean! Where the hell are you!? Do you have any freaking idea how worried I’ve been?! We literally just got you back and you disappear again?! Who _does_ that, Dean?!” Sam eyed the app, still trying to detect a signal.

“How you doing, Sam?” Dean said evenly.

“I’m fucking pissed! Now, where are you?!” Sam boomed. Then he heard a click and a beep. “Dean?!” He looked down at the phone flashing ‘Call Ended’. The tracking app beeped before a window popped up ‘Tracing Unsuccessful’.

“DAMN IT!” Sam shouted and slammed his fists on the table. Cas hung his head and sighed.

\--

It was a few days later when Dean called again. Cas was mopping the hallway when his phone rang and showed "Blocked Number". He immediately picked up.

“Dean.” Cas sighed. He clutched the mop to him, waiting.

“Hey baby.” Cas could hear the smile in Dean’s voice.

“Dean, please, let me help you. Tell me where you are.”

“I am not going to go through this again. I just want to talk to you, okay?”

“I’m just worried, Dean. Please.” Cas’ voice trembled.

“That’s why I’m calling. I promise I’m fine. I needed to do this. You have to understand.” Dean pleaded.

“Why can’t we do this, whatever it is, together?”

“Because this isn’t your fight, it’s mine. I need to do this and I just can’t have you and Sam involved. Both of you already tried to help. The horrible things I did to Don…I thought I was over it…” He took a deep breath. “I’m going to find that son of a bitch alpha and kill him. So that nobody else goes through something like this. Because otherwise I will drive myself off a freakin’ bridge. Now, please, man, let’s change the subject. I don’t want to hang up again.”

Cas was silent, debating whether he wanted to push it further or if he wanted to bring up the fact that Dean might be mentally unstable. That probably wouldn't go over well. He sighed. “Alright, Dean.”

“Good. Now, have you been keeping up with Game of Thrones?”

After that, Dean would call every few days and they would talk briefly. Dean had tried to call Sam a few times but it always ended up in a shouting match. All of Sam’s attempts to track Dean’s phone failed. Even Frank’s tech couldn’t pinpoint him to anywhere more specific than North America. Charlie must have taught Dean something Sam didn’t know. She was the only one smart enough to beat Frank’s tech.

\--

One night, just as Cas finished brushing his teeth, Dean called.  He sounded tired, defeated.

“What’s wrong?” Cas ask, slipping out of his robe and sitting on the bed.

“I’ve just…hit a few walls.” Dean sighed.

“Let me help.” Cas whispered.

“No, Cas.” Dean said flatly. He breathed in deeply and breathed out slowly. “You getting ready for bed?” He said, more like himself.

“Yes.” Cas sighed. He got up and slipped under the covers. “You should get some rest too.”

“I’m fine. I’ll sleep when I die.”

Cas frowned. “You need sleep, Dean.  It’s important for your physical…and mental health.”

“I miss you.” Dean said, ignoring him. “I miss your stupid frown that you’re probably making right now. I miss your touch.”

Cas slid down further into the bed. “I miss you too.” He looked over to Dean’s side and the emptiness of it hit him hard. “I miss you a lot, Dean. You should be- you are meant to be here with me.”

“I’ll be home soon.” Dean lowered his voice. “I can’t wait to feel you again.”

A zip of pleasure ran through Cas at those words. “It has…been a while.”

“Yeah, it has.” Dean’s breath seemed to speed up slightly. “Cas…”

“Yes?”

“I want to suck your cock…”

Cas’ breath caught, and he felt himself begin to harden. “That’s…yes…I would like that.”

“I want to feel you in my mouth... I want to devour you until you are coming deep down my throat.”

“Dean,” Cas choked out.

“Are you getting turned on?” Dean whispered.

“I- I have an erection.” Cas tried to keep his breath even.

“Good.” Cas heard rustling and movement on the other line. “I want to hear you come.” Dean’s breath hitched.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked, puzzled as he heard more movement and then a small moan escape Dean’s lips. The sound made Cas harder and his dick throb.

“I’m slicking myself up, pretending it’s you touching me, your hand smoothing up and down my cock.” Dean let out another little breathy moan.

“Oh.” Cas said shakily.

“Touch yourself, Cas.” Dean murmured. “You’ve done it before, remember? Remember that time?”

Cas was completely hard now and he nodded. “Yes, I remember. It was…surprisingly erotic.”

“I loved it. I loved watching you, seeing you jerk yourself off, and that blush and sweat all over your body. Hearing those noises falling from your lips like sin. You were so good for me, baby.”

Cas’ free hand slid down his torso. “I…but you aren’t here to see…” His hand moved down further, brushing over the soft short curls near his groin.

“That’s okay, I can imagine it. I can hear you.” There was more movement. “Are you doing it?”

“I…” Cas wrapped his hand around his heated, hard shaft. “Yes.”

“Are you going fast or slow?”

Cas began to move his hand up and down slowly. “Slow.” He breathed as his thumb brushed up against the glans.

“I’m doing an easy pace, cause you're taking your time with me...” Dean breathed.

“Yes, that’s how I would do it. I would…I’d leave you on the edge, until you are begging me, Dean.” Cas didn’t know where that came from but it only fueled his desire.

Dean hissed. “Yeah, baby.”

“This feels really good. Your voice, the sounds you are making, they are arousing.” Cas began to twist his hand as he went up his shaft a little faster.

“You should hear yourself... Your voice is so fucking sexy, Cas.” Dean moaned. “Ah…maybe…maybe one day, I can fuck you.” Dean whispered.

“Fuck me?” Cas repeated, the rush of arousal at the thought hit him like a bolt of lightning.

“Yeah, I’d fuck you so good...” The sound suddenly changed, like a chamber and Cas knew he was on speaker. He could now hear the wet, sticky sound of Dean jerking himself off.

“I…” Cas thrilled as he imagined Dean pushing into him. He had never had that done before but the way Dean moaned out his name when Cas did it to him, Cas was sure he would enjoy it. To be filled by Dean.

“I’d push into you nice and slow, and slick up my hand to wrap around your hard cock.”

“Please, Dean.” Cas gasped as he could feel his balls tighten and the heat start to spread from his chest to his limbs.

“I would jerk you off at the same time as I pushed into you, and you’d come on my dick, baby. You’d moan out my name and I’d continue to fuck you.” Dean’s breath caught at the end and he went silent for a moment before moaning out long and low. “Oh god. Oh fuck. Cas.”

Cas was so close and he relished the sounds coming from the other end. He could hear Dean’s harsh breathing. “I’m so close.” He whispered, low and rough.

“C’mon baby. Come for me. I want to hear you too.”

Cas continued to pump his shaft until suddenly the orgasm rushed through him and he groaned loudly.

“Damn.” Dean whispered, sounding stunned. “If I hadn’t just shot my load, I would have come at that. You’re so fucking hot.”

“That was…” Cas couldn’t find the words. He didn’t know something like this was possible.

“Yeah.” Dean chuckled. “I needed that. God, you drive me crazy.”

Cas smiled at that. “I feel better now.”

“Better?” Dean asked, yawning.

“Yes. I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too, sweetheart.”

“Then come home.” Cas murmured.

“I will. When I’m finished here. I promise.” Cas opened his mouth to speak but Dean cut him off. “I know you’ve been looking for me. You and Sam, but you have to stop. For your own good. Please.”

The angel felt his chest constrict. “I can’t do that.”

“I know.” Dean sighed.

“I love you, Dean. I just want you home.”

“Love you, Cas. And I know. I know…”

\--

Their calls became more frequent but usually cut short when the hunter had to hang up to do whatever it was he was doing. Sometimes, the conversation would carry late into the night and they would breathe out each other’s names in the darkness and come with the sound of their moans echoing through the silence.

The most surprising thing about being human, Cas thought, as he washed away the evidence of his latest sinful imaginative escape, was how many needs they have. How many needs _he_ had. Masturbating with Dean through the phone was great and Cas thoroughly enjoyed it. Yet, it didn’t compare to having Dean in his arms – sucking him and licking him, caressing his firm back, feeling his soft short hair through his fingers. He could only imagine how Dean felt, being fully human and more sexually driven than most.

Sex was a powerful motivator, Cas discovered.

Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed his cell phone. He made sure to cover his genitals slightly and he looked up into his phone as he held it up high. Cas didn’t smile, he only thought of Dean and he knew his hard jaw and intense eyes would look nice. Jimmy Novak had been a good-looking man, even if his body was a little worn now from all the abuse Cas had put it through. Now though, it was his body.

He sent the image to Dean’s encrypted email address.

A moment later, his phone rang.  Castiel smiled and answered as normal as possible. “Dean?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, what are you doing man?!” Dean’s voice was strained and Cas could hear noise in the background.

“What are you talking about, Dean? It’s 9 in the morning. I just woke up.” Castiel said.

“Yeah, okay, sure Cas.” Cas could hear some rustling and the noise in the background was muffled slightly. Dean lowered his voice, “I almost jizzed my pants when I opened that email. Fuck. Thank god nobody saw it. Man, you gotta give me a head’s up next time.”

“Did you not like it?”

“What?! Didn’t you hear what I said? I’m currently trying to hide a boner at a diner.” Dean whispered with a whine.

Cas smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I hope I wasn’t disturbing anything.”

“Well, I was having breakfast but now I’m hungry for something else…” Dean’s breathing was quick and Cas smiled wider. He could hear a woman ask Dean if he wanted more coffee and Dean politely declined. After a second, Dean lowered his voice again. “Ugh, man, why do you torture me like this.”

“Just showing you what you are missing due to your stubbornness.”

“If you’re trying to make me go back home, Cas, well, it almost worked.” Dean sighed. “I miss you like hell, sweetheart.”

“What do you miss?” Cas asked.

Dean choked out a laugh. “Give me a minute.” Cas waited patiently as he heard Dean pay for his breakfast, say good bye to the hostess as she thanked him for stopping in and then Dean whispered. “How much time you got, Cas?”

“Plenty.” Cas murmured.

\--

A few days later, Cas sent Dean another picture, but this time it was mostly Cas’ face looking into the camera with a flush on his cheeks and licking off a single drop of cum on his finger. Again, Dean called immediately, sounding out of breath.

“Oh, you son of bitch.” He panted. Cas could hear Dean walking rapidly. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Hello, Dean.”

“Don’t even pretend, you dick.” Cas heard a slamming door. “Jesus.”

“I take it that you have an erection and that you need to alleviate the pressure building up in your testicles.” He heard nothing for another moment, other than movement and clothes rustling. “I'm in a similar state" He paused. "Would you like to see?”

“Oh god, hell yes. Hold on.” A second later, a video call came through and Cas answered. Dean was there on the other side, in his hotel room. “Fuck, I missed your face.” The camera wobbled a little as Dean moved around the room.

“It’s nice to see you again, Dean. Even if it’s just through electronic means.” Cas sat on his bed. “Now,” he said, his voice changing to something with more authority. “Get on the bed.”

\-----

Cas stepped out of the car and squinted up at the broken, rundown sign hanging over the dilapidated old farmhouse converted into a bar that was somehow still standing. “Jerry’s”

His trench coat billowed behind him as he walked up to the front door and pushed it open. He had taken just a few steps inside before a big burly barman shouted, “GET OUTTA HERE, SHITHEAD!”

Cas ignored him. The place was dark and smelled of old beer and smoke. There was rock music blaring. There were a dozen or so patrons, worn and weathered, scattered about around old wooden tables and at the pool table. They all wore black leather jackets and vests. A few looked up and watched him. Others were passed out among bottles of whiskey.

The barman stared at him with his arms crossed from behind the bar. He must have been at least 6’5 tall. Cas ignored him and scanned the room slowly.

Dean was sprawled on a chair with a cigarette in his mouth and playing cards in one hand. His other hand was smoothing up and down a blonde woman’s bare back, exposed by a plunging tight black dress. She sat on the arm of Dean’s chair, her just covered breasts close to his face, her lips whispering into his ear.

Cas immediately began stalking over when Dean suddenly looked up. His eyes only widened for a second before he slowly got up, said something to the table, and headed over to the bar across the room. Cas followed him. Before Cas could open his mouth, Dean spoke.

“The fuck you doin’ here, you _idiot_.” Dean didn’t look at him as he spoke. Dean ordered four beers.  The bartender hesitated, continuing to stare at Cas menancingly, before walking over to the beer fridge on the other end of the bar.

“Did you hit your head again? That seems to be a recurring theme given your asinine questions.” Cas responded, irritated and ignoring the bartender’s intense scowl from across the room.

“Do you have any goddamn idea how much danger you are in right now?” Dean said under his breath, playing with a carton of cigarettes and looking at the wall mirror behind the bar instead of directly at Cas.

Cas noticed movement from the corner of his eye and he looked over. The men who were at the table with Dean were moving closer. One man in particular was very close. A very big man.

“Is there a reason to your increasing proximity to us?” Cas said in an annoyed and rough tone. A few more men stood up and the bar noise quieted down a bit.

“Yeah, asshole, who are you?” Said the large man

“That is none of your concern. Go away. This is a private conversation.”

The men walked closer, starting to surround Cas.

“Hey fellas, ease up, it’s alright.” Dean turned to the gathering crowd, waving his hand nonchalantly. “I got this.”

“Who’s this pretty boy, Singer?” Said another man, smaller, with several scars on his face and arms.

“I’m his-“ Cas began.

“Lawyer.” Dean looked at the man closest to them. “It’s alright I said.” He said, more firmly. The man took a step backward but kept his eyes on Cas.

“Lawyer?” The big man asked. He smiled. “Shit, what did you do this time, Singer?”

“Oh, some bitch is trying to claim I’m her bastard kid’s old man, but you know how these sluts are. Probably just missing a good fucking.” Dean drawled. “This nerdy son of a bitch right here is helping me stay off the state’s radar. It’s easier to kill someone nowadays than get out of child support.”

Cas looked at him with a raised eyebrow while the men laughed.

“Just give me a sec. I’ll get him out of here.”

Dean turned to the door and Cas followed. He stared down the other men like bugs on a windshield.

A man stepped closer and Cas let the angel blade drop into his hand, the sound of the smooth metallic slide covered by the music. Dean quickly turned and grabbed Cas by the lapel and pushed him out of the bar ahead of him. Before following, Dean turned to the big man. “Don’t touch my cards or I’ll knock your last 5 teeth out, you fat fuck.”

Cas could hear the men laughing as the door closed.

Dean wasted no time. “How the hell did you find me?”

Now that they were outside, Cas took a moment to look Dean over. He was wearing black boots, black jeans, a tight dark grey tshirt and a form fitting leather jacket. He had aviator sunglasses hanging off a dirty silver necklace. Cas lost his train of thought.

“Cas, I’m talking to you. How did you find me? Where’s Sam?”

Cas blinked and forced himself to look up at Dean and away from the way the jeans hugged Dean’s hips and his crotch. “It…It doesn’t matter how we found you. And Sam will be here as soon as I call him.”

“So he’s back at the bunker?” Dean began to look on edge.

“He’s looking for you in Minnesota.”

“What? Why would he look for me there?”

“There are only 5 states have a Belle Dee’s. I figured you were Northeast given the species of trees in the background.”

“What? Trees? How did you even know that? I don’t und—Oh.” Dean’s expression went from confusion to comprehension to anger in seconds. “What the fuck.” His fists balled up and his shoulders rose.

“I am not sorry, Dean.”

Dean stepped closer, “That’s why you always sent those pi-, why you wanted to video chat.”

“Yes.” Cas said, not flinching when Dean stepped even closer.

“You used me.”

“Yes. And it lead me to you.” Cas raised his chin defiantly.

“Were you even into it? Or were you just faking it?” Dean snarled.

“Faking it? The orgasms?” Cas tilted his head and squinted, his body relaxing slightly. “How could I possibly feign something like that? I ejaculated each time, seeing you, thinking of you.” Cas gave Dean a slow once over, heat suddenly taking over his eyes and his voice became rougher. “Thinking of having you.”

Dean blinked and his face betrayed his struggle. The way Cas looked at him now, it opened a flood of memories and desire. He crossed his arms and frowned. “I’m not going back, Cas.”

“Then let me stay beside you, Dean. Let me and Sam help you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“No.”

“Then I will be a thorn in your side. I will not be leaving you.”

“Good luck with that. You lost track of me once, and you will again.” Dean said, almost with pity.

This time it was Cas who stepped closer. “I highly doubt that.” He growled.

Dean breathed in and then turned away and began walking toward the side of the barn-like building where there was a tall, dense cluster of untrimmed trees and bushes.

“Dean. There is no point in running now. Where are you going?”

Dean didn’t stop and Cas followed him. Dean stepped through an opening in the foliage and disappeared. When Cas got to the other side, it was dark and shaded, just small beams of light shining through the leaves above. He could see the glowing outline of Dean standing there, facing him.

“Dean.”

“You shouldn’t have come here, Cas.” Dean whispered. “Why did you come here?”

“You know why. You are my friend, Dean. We can fight this. Together.”

“Friend, huh?” Dean stepped around in a circle until Cas’ back was against the wall. “Just a friend?”

“Not just a friend. You’re my -“

“I swear to god if you say boyfriend, I gonna throw up.”

“I was going to say my _love_ , you _ass_.” Cas growled, exasperated.

Dean stepped into Cas’ space, leaning against the wall with one arm, and his thigh came between Cas’ legs. Dean lowered his voice. “Better.”

Cas took a breath and the movement made Dean’s leg graze over his crotch. Before he could take another breath, Dean was on him, kissing him deep, grabbing his face, and pushing him against the wooden paneling of the building. Cas couldn’t help but push against Dean’s leg, having been deprived for so long. Cas tried to focus on nipping at Dean’s lips and sweeping his tongue against Dean’s and then he was rutting against Dean, feeling Dean’s bulge against his hip. They both moaned and let out harsh breaths as the rocking got harder, faster, more frantic.

“Dean…I…” Cas gasped.

“Yeah, I know baby…I know…” Dean panted out.

Cas felt Dean’s hardness and wanted to reach down and touch Dean everywhere but also thought he would die if he stopped now. Cas came first and his jaw went slack as Dean continued kissing him, his hands twisted in Cas’ hair, and thrusting against Cas until he grunted and went still. They both shook and trembled for a moment as they recovered. Cas felt rung out and yet he was still turned on and he wanted Dean, over and over again.

“C’mon.” Dean breathed out.

“Where are we going?”

“Now that you’re here…I can’t wait anymore.” Dean kissed Cas’ neck. “Let me…Please.”

“Yes.” Cas breathed and lifted his head for more access.

Dean sucked and licked at the sensitive flesh behind his ear until Cas was letting out small puffs of barely controlled breath. “Okay, come out in a few minutes. There’s a motel up the road.” Dean kissed Cas’ neck once more and then kissed his lips, soft and gentle. “I love you.” Dean swept out of the vegetation and left Cas standing there, breathing hard.

It only took Cas about two minutes to realize his mistake. He bolted through the bushes into the clearing. By the time he got back to the front of the building, Dean and the rest of the bikers were already speeding away in a deafening roar of motorcycle engines and a cloud of exhaust and dust. Cas ran toward them but they were over a mile down the road before he even made it to the parking lot.

\--

“You _lost_ him?! Cas! What the hell! How?!”

Cas sighed loudly, “I told you, Sam. He tricked me.” Cas walked back to his car rapidly.

“Cas, it’s his freakin’ M.O.! You should know this by now! Jesus!” Sam yelled over the phone.

“Well, I’m sorry, Sam! If you had seen Dean, you would know why I couldn’t control my libido.” Cas riffled through his pockets looking for his keys.

“Ugh. Stop. I’m heading over there now. I’ll meet you in three hours. At least we have more clues now.” Sam hung up.

\-----

Cas visited another few similar, run-down biker bars in the area and got into at least two fights before calling it quits. Sam texted as Cas left the last bar, his lip bloody and his coat torn.

_Sam: I’ll be at the hotel in 15 minutes. Anything?_

_Me: No._

Cas leaned against his car briefly, looking over the top in contemplation and exhaustion. He heard footsteps behind him and looked skyward momentarily in frustration.

“I said I was leaving. I don’t want to hurt any of you.” Cas said tiredly.

“But we want to hurt you, Castiel.”

Cas turned and a flash of blue light consumed him.


End file.
